War of the Terrors
by sincerly.m.l
Summary: An unannounced war has been waged on the state of California by an army of demonic beings known as Terrors. Nearly 30% of the population is either dead or driven mad by the Terrors, and the casualties are only growing. Can a mysteriously gathered group of equally powerful and problematic teens end the Terrors rein or will the secrets of their unknown connections ruin them?


**Chapter One**

**Goodbye**

_June 13__th__, 2032_

_Unfortunately there are many souls, unsatisfied and desperate, wandering about in rotting carcasses. Disappointingly enough, the majority of these souls would rather send prayers up to a throne above the clouds than entrust themselves with the foundation of their own empire. There are no churches built of laughter nor kingdoms begun by measly hope. Instead we have pyramids constructed by the calloused fingers of slaves and statues carved in the inspiration of manipulation. Sadly though, the greatest tragedy is the false sense of protection we are spoon feed by fancily dressed "heroes" who have yet to save themselves from their own tragic pasts. Lacking are these misguided souls in the knowledge that they are the only saving grace to be accounted for. _

A hand, not to be considered warm nor cold, laid atop the furiously scrawling wrist that bent and snapped with each sharply ended word. "Colin." The boy's fingers drummed along the fountain tip pen in irritation at the firm pronunciation of his first name. Even so he could not let the slight annoyance grow into anger because he was aware of the worry that came out in gentle trembles from the fingertips pressed close to his pulse.

Soon, within the next hour, Colin knew that he would struggle to remember just how comforting his mother's touch truly was. Soft, stable, and concerned it had always proved a calming reaction to his naturally brash nature. In an effort to keep the feeling embedded into his skin Colin laid his pen down and held his mother's hand. The rough palm was only meant to hide the brittle bones that laid beneath. Colin knew the long hours that his mother had spent making the best life she could mend together for the both of them had long since taken its toll on his mother. He heard it in the muffled groans his mother would make every time her overly worked joints grinded from the easiest of movements and saw it in the pitiful times his mother would freeze, as if trying to still herself in the chaos of the world, while her eyes darted about in her sockets in fear that someone would notice that she had little control of her physical-self nowadays.

Colin knew that his mother did not have many years of hard labor left in her. Edging toward her early fifties at the age of forty-eight it was obvious his mother's life-long job was not suitable anymore. But, Colin knew of the career his mother had always secretly prayed for. Whether his mother had realized it or not her son had always listened intently to the detailed daydreams she would speak of from time to time. A small, popular bookstore set along the busy city sidewalks, filled with all the many customers the unnamed, urban society had to offer whom would venture to the quaint business not only for an exceptional read but also a cup up herbal tea-or maybe even two cups. There were never any details of the place that Colin had always thought of an unbuilt safe haven. No trademark name or discussions on "Carpet or Wood?" flooring. It was only a silly thought to be tossed around when reality was possibly a little too dull for Colin's mother.

The truth was that Colin's mother was in the benefit-less work of "domestic services". However Colin had always seen the truth behind the fancy word his mother had titled herself. She spent her days, and more often than not her nights, making the wealth of their little town look even more well off by having the bragging right of a helping hand to clean up their piles of worthless shit. Since birth Colin's mother had made ends meet as a respected maid on the small island of Ponza that strived peacefully off of the central coast of Italy. The surname Roth was associated with a quiet, wise mother and her antisocial but determined son throughout the small community that was knitted together like a close yet unequally distributed family. Despite an excelling reputation, scrubbing mansion floors and dusting extravagant chandeliers was not the ideal setting the young boy had for his strong-willed mother. Also, he didn't want to spend the rest of his days working through the stench of the downtown supermarket or risking his life at the coal mine on the Western side of the island.

It was with this disposition that gave reason to why the usually unnerved young man had worked feverishly through his 11th grade year. With senior year just ahead of his grade the staff was insistent with possible winnings from competitions or really any method of becoming known to the colleges that waited past the rocky shores of Ponza. Colin, always told of his endless talents-especially in the literature dynamic, took the new passion for ensuring a better future for his mother and himself as fuel to enter into countless events.

Not all of them had worked out in his favor in the honesty of recollection. He only moved past the local level of the science convention before his study of pollution within coral reefs surrounding Ponza was found to be mostly false. The challenge issued by a top college in Tokyo to create a well-drawn comic that used a mathematical equation to solve the conflict within the artist's storyline had been trashed along with Colin's sketchbook. From _trying _to participate in sports without purposefully chucking a ball or two into his teammate's nether regions to being asked to retire from the towns Cooking & Childcare association after trying to balance a baby on his hip and unknowingly letting the child's miniature, metal rattler fall into cake batter that he then proceeded to set in the oven, Colin had tried it all.

It wasn't until Colin's close friend, Montae, brought forth a rare proposition from an inquiring college in California, United States of America that Colin had a breakthrough. The college asked for a 15,000 word piece stating, describing, and supporting an opinion that the author felt was not widely shared internationally. He recalled scoffing at Montae and sliding the paper back to his friend saying, "These people don't really want somebodies true thoughts, man. They just want a nice, clean essay on how everyone is beautiful or some bullshit like that."

Montae, a teenager of many odd ways and the self-proclaimed best friend of Colin, refused to let the opportunity slip away. When sly questioning on how the paper was going proved to not be a motivation for Colin, Montae leaped a few steps ahead. Or more accurately bounded his way to the top of the staircase.

Finding Montae and his mother seated across from one another with the essay form lying between them on the table was less than a happy sight for Colin. Slightly outraged and partially scared of what his mother would say as she often commented on her dislike for the majority of her son's friends, Colin had stammered over an excuse. There had been an equal amount of shock between the two teenage boys to say the least when the clear, deadpan revelation cut through their haste to silent one another. "I think you should write for it, Colin." was all Colin's mother had to state, accompanied by a triumphant punch in the shoulder by Montae, to convince the boy to at the least give his supposed skills one last benefit of doubt.

Now, Colin sat at the marble kitchen counter closing his notebook and preparing himself to fly half-way across the world to Jump City, California. A summer-long, full paid trip to spend time working as an assistant editor for the city newspaper was his reward for winning first-place. It had been more astonishing than the recent island gossip that had been stirring since the first warm tide had crashed against the beach shores. Colin had kept the opinion that his paper was focused on a secret until the e-mail was sent congratulating him and requesting to be contacted through the given information in order to claim his winnings.

When told of the base of her son's paper Ms. Roth even admitted it to be surreal that Jump City, notorious for the adored Teen Titans that had mysteriously disappeared years earlier, would give the first place position to a paper speaking on the disturbing amount of dependency placed on heroes internationally. There was no point or will in arguing a possible miscommunication or a wrongly awarded essay. Colin's bags were packed, he had said his "I'll be back sooner than you think" speeches, and his flight was going to take off in less than an hour. The only missing piece to the puzzle that may just prevent Colin from his summer journey was his way of transportation-Montae.

"Promise me that you will be safe." There was a slight quake of fear underlying the almost forceful tone in the elder of the two Roth's voice. Colin offered another one of his small, satisfied smiles that he had found himself flashing off rather often in the last month. He had not foreseen the warm hugs, long sessions of questioning, or even the common outburst, "Wow! You're going all the way to California?! I always figured you would be the person to find a way off this island-do something good with yourself.", that almost everyone had greeted his confession to a summer spent on an out-of-country trip with. It had been a welcomed surprise to the seventeen year old who had always had the lingering suspicion that he was nothing more than a misfortunate afterthought to his peers.

The sound of gravel churning beneath the weight of rimmed tires gave the only needed signal that Montae had finally arrived. Colin jumped in a rush of excitement that made his stomach begin to flutter, as it would for the next few hours, with the heavy wing beats of butterflies. "I promise mumma. Everything is going to be fine. I'll call you every day and take enough pictures to fill up a freakin' artist gallery!" Colin exclaimed, rushing about to gather up his two suitcases and book-bag filled with knickknacks. Pulling his mother into one last, squeeze-until-you-can't-breathe hug, Colin didn't say goodbye. Only spoke in the most confident of declarations, "I'll come back to you safe and sound! I love you mumma! I'll call you when we land!"

Colin's mumma didn't say goodbye either, but, she knew, for a long time following the red Camaro that pulled out of her drive way, it would be.

* * *

_**Author's Notes**_

_**So, yeah! Trust me there are so much more twists, turns, and just things that I think will really make this story something that you all will love. But, you have meet two main characters thus far! Colin and Montae! Can you take a guess of who Colin's mother is? Review and tell me what you think so far. And yessss there have been multiple changes to the original version but everything will be explained in due time. Thank you guys for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it! I hope you have a wonderful, amazing day and that you come back for more soon!**_


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